


Marching On.

by jcknwng



Series: The Agents Of. [2]
Category: Duncan Lane / Warren Okrasa
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5205896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcknwng/pseuds/jcknwng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a new recruit at the base and Duncan's feeling a little territorial.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Figure It Out.

"Did you hear about the new agent guy?" 

Sara's voice was beaming. Always beaming. It wound Duncan up somewhat chronic, but he'd grown to hide it well. Not moving his eyes from his computer screen, he responded with a shrug. He heard a huff, followed by the noise of chair wheels rolling back on the carpet. He tried to hold his sigh in.  
"I'm trying to speak to you, stop being such a stick in the mud." Sara pursed her lips, pulling herself onto the desk next to Duncan's computer. He turned his gaze to her briefly, frowning deeply at the bright smile on her face. Reluctantly, he abandoned his work and leaned back in his chair, fully focused on the female in front of him. He'd always found it odd how she never broke face. 

"Good, now that I have your attention..." Sara clapped her hands together after pushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "Have you heard about him?" 

Duncan had, of course. Nothing ever happened in this place without everyone knowing about it. But there'd been rumours about the new recruit, conflicting ones. About where he was from, why he was here, what talents he happened to have. Duncan? He didn't really care much for it. He was here to do his job, and as long as the new guy didn't mess him around, it was fine by him. 

"Don't think too hard, jeez. Anyway - I heard that he's been training for the last five years and finally got invited to join us. Pretty dedicated, right?" 

Duncan shrugged. If that was true, it was pretty pathetic. Then again, not everyone was as great as he was. He'd managed to get his invite to the base months before he even should have been deemed as 'ready'. But he was clever, and he didn't need much guidance when he was picking things up. And he'd been here for almost 10 years - so maybe he shouldn't turn his nose up just yet. "He sounds like a hard ass. And not in a good way." Now this comment forced a pout from Sara. 

"I also heard that he's taking Dorian's role. So he'll be your new partner. Not that it's important, at all." And with that, she'd hopped off his desk and returned to her own, suddenly too focused on what she was working on to answer his repetitive 'what?'s. 

\--

Warren had been surprised when he'd gotten the invite to join this particular team. He'd spent a few years training himself up to be the best, but he'd never imagined that he'd be transferred to Base 1 in a million years. There'd been plenty of speculation about Base 1 while he'd been training. Stories about how every member of the team excelled in what they did, about how the communications team was the cleanest in history. Others had spoken about how they'd apparently never lost a mission, but Warren didn't believe that for a second. People failed, always. 

But when he'd arrived at Base 1, he found it difficult not to compare it to the stories he'd heard. It wasn't a pretty sight, it wasn't in immaculate condition and it certainly didn't look like the outstanding base people had described it as. To Ren, it looked like it needed a good clean and some TLC. 

"Not what you were expecting, Agent?" A snap back to reality - Ren's stories vanished from his head and he blinked at his superior. Despite the stern tone of Agent Wilks's voice, his face wore a smile. "I was the same. Come on, let's meet the others." 

Samson Wilks, his superior, his 'boss'. He'd heard plenty of things about him. Rumour had it that Samson arrived at Base 1 when he was just 18 and that he'd started out simply as another agent. He'd spent his time being a rookie, before becoming a Senior Agent. He'd been the best that anyone had ever seen, working smoothly with his communications team and never missing a beat on the field. Until he did - several gunshots to his spine later and he was retired. But he'd never stayed away for too long. His position had been given to a one Dorian Fischer (who had at the time been Samson's lieutenant general). Now Samson was head of Base 1 and considering how quiet Ren was right now, it suited him.

\--

"Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to Agent Warren Okrasa. He'll be replacing Dorian, who has left to be with his family. I expect you to all show him the same amount of respect I except him to show you. Dinner's in thirty. Play nice." He waited for everyone to nod at him before he left the room, attention suddenly falling on Ren. 

"So is it true that you're, like, handpicked by the General?" Warren hadn't expected the voice right by his ear, he turned quickly to see who it belonged to. A petite brunette who had a smile that almost touched her ears. His jaw tensed in response to her question. That's what people had been saying about him? He just blinked at her, hoping that would be enough until his voice decided to make itself known. 

"I call bullshit on that, Brogaldi." 

"Shut your dirty mouth, Lugg." 

"Guys shut up, Samson will brain you if he hears you." 

The brunette turned to stick her tongue out at the owner of the voice, a well built man who easily towered above 'Brogaldi'. Although his height was clearly enough to make them be quiet, his face half showed that he wasn't particularly going to bash their heads together anytime soon. 

"Okrasa, wasn't it?" It made Ren jump. He wasn't ever this jumpy, and he certainly wasn't ever nervous. It must have been the 'stories' he'd had told about him. "They just make you leader like that, then? Bypassed the rest and straight up took Dorian's spot?" He side stepped away from the blonde who had been stood beside him, arms folded across his chest. He had a face like thunder, but it looked to Ren like he'd accidentally revealed his true feelings. 

"Well - no - I just -" He didn't have to explain himself. Especially not to this guy. "I just got transferred because I was good." It wasn't the answer he wanted to give, but it was the best his mind could come up with. The response was met with a frown that made Ren wish he hadn't said anything at all. The blonde stepped forward, staring at him. He looked like he was debating something in his head and Ren was about to change the subject when he spoke again, apparently finishing his mental argument. 

"I'm Duncan, I'm your communications partner." And with that he turned and walked towards the door, his hands deep inside his pockets. Duncan stopped before he reached the door, looking over his shoulder. "And being chosen because you're 'good' won't cut it with me. So fix that." He huffed, finally leaving the room.

Well that was just fantastic.


	2. Be Good.

"Uh oh." 

The sudden break in silence made Samson lift his head, the frown still on his face as his eyes met Pippa's. Despite the concern in her voice, she still held a lopsided grin on her face. The blonde took a seat across the table from her superior, elbows resting on the surface and her head in her hands. "Your face is doing that thing where it's clearly worried." Pippa idly gestured to his face, making Samson's frown deeper. She sat back in the chair, letting out a small sigh, her grin falling. "What's wrong?" 

Samson opened his mouth to answer her, before biting his lip and shrugging his shoulders. "Nothing's wrong, per say." It was true. There wasn't any major issues (hopefully) and it wasn't like anyone was due for a telling off from him. He'd just come across something that had concerned him a little. Samson cleared his throat when he realised that Pippa was waiting for him to expand. "Okay." He gave in, leaning forwards in his chair and pushing a small file towards the blonde. "This is Agent Okrasa's file." He told her. 

At that announcement, Pippa also sat forward, apparently faster than she should have considering she almost ended up on the floor. After she found her balance again, Pippa opened the first page of the file, eyes scanning the front page before looking at Samson, a brow raised. "Am I missing something?" From what she could see, everything was fine. This page was like all of theirs - full of numbers and information, verified by a signature after a background check. Their pictures, their emergency contacts. Warren's didn't seem any different to her own, despite obvious parts. 

"Look." Samson's arm was now extended, his index finger pointing to the part on the page which said 'Position". Pippa's eyes followed his finger and read the word. Medic. This time when she looked at Samson, her expression matched the one he'd been wearing earlier. The new recruit originally joined as a medic? She'd heard of agents becoming medics out of stress or other factors, but never the other way around. "So what, you think he's-"

"Not incapable." Samson answered quickly. 

Pippa pursed her lips before glancing back down at the file and turning the page. "He's got quite a colourful history." Samson spoke as Pippa was reading his reviews. She could certainly see that. He'd spent the first four years of his time being a medic for Base 6. And according to this, he was pretty damn good at saving lives. 

"Wait, Base 6? Isn't that where-?"

"Precisely." 

Pippa's eyes widened at the new information and she flicked through a few more pages before landing on the one dated 23rd November 2011. "His appearance is very deceiving." She said gently, closing the file and pushing it back towards Samson. "But maybe we need a guy like that on this team." She smiled brightly when Samson chuckled and seemed to relax. 

"A medic who protected his 3 apprentices with nothing but a scalpel? Sounds like he'd be dangerous with a team of highly trained agents." 

"Sounds like he already is." Pippa raised an eyebrow as she glanced down at the file between them. Samson flashed a smile at her. 

" _Precisely._ "


	3. Renegades

It had been 3 weeks since he'd been transferred to Base 1 and he was beginning to get restless. He hadn't been able to do much but use the gun range - something about there being a dry run of missions. Warren didn't know how that was possible, considering it was them who co-ordinated them. Missions didn't just spring out of the woodwork. Surely there was something they needed, people who needed _saving_.

"Will you quit that with your goddamn leg." It was less of a question and more of a demand that came from Duncan. Ren suddenly stopped tapping his foot, something he hadn't even realised he'd been doing in the first place, and looking over at Duncan. The other male was sat on the other end of the couch, laptop on his knee. Since starting, Warren had already figured out who he needed to give a wide berth. Duncan had been the first on his list, but of course being partners made that difficult. The one they called Sara had explained to Warren a little bit about Duncan after his first day. 

He hadn't really remembered much of it, just that Duncan was really good at what he did. And honestly, watching him now, he definitely believed it. He'd seen Duncan go from coding to blueprinting to fixing his computer when it decided to give up. It confused Ren - he wouldn't have the patience for technology. So he held Duncan high in his respects for that reason. But it didn't meant he had to like him. 

"What are you looking at?" 

He had to stop that. He had to stop keeping his gaze on Duncan while his mind went off on a tangent. Because the few times he'd done it, Duncan had always caught him. Warren looking down at his hands, hoping that the sudden burning in his cheeks wasn't visible through a blush. It hadn't been mentioned, and Warren had already decided Duncan would be the type of guy to point it out if it had. He'd been trying so hard (internally) to force himself to like Duncan's company. But he always felt on edge, like the next thing he did would be wrong. Even breathing. Was he breathing right? 

"You better not act like this on the field. It's weird." Warren hadn't realised he'd been breathing a little heavier, clearly trying to figure out what was the correct way to breathe around Duncan. Biting at his lip, he settled on silent and steady. 

"A chance to show you would be a fine thing." He rolled his eyes, focusing now on his hands, going over every little story that came with each scar or burn. It was a good way of distracting himself, at least. 

"You're bugging me." Duncan broke through the silence, closing his laptop with more force than necessary and then standing up. He didn't say anything else to Warren as he left the lounge, heading towards the comms room. Ren pulled a face, fighting the urge to stick his tongue out at the other male. 

~~

"Wake up, sleepy head." 

Warren felt his shoulder being shaken, and his eyes slowly opened to identify who had woken him. His gaze was met with Trish's face. She was hard faced but her expressions always held the faintest hint of a smile. She was the team's tactical co-ordinator, an important aspect of the Base. "Someone needs to get more sleep, it was like trying to wake the dead." She pushed his feet off of the couch and then took a seat, a thin file on her lap as she settled down. Ren shifted his body so that he was sat up, eyes flicking between Trish's face and the file on her knee. 

"Sorry." He cleared his throat, finally deciding to focus on her face. She was a beautiful woman, but she looked like she could murder him with two fingers. Although to be truthful, all of the girls at Base 1 had that air about them. He wondered if it was a requirement. 

"Yeah." Trish waved her hand as if to swat his apology away. "Lane tells me that you're being whiny about no missions, so I've got a fake one for you. You and Lane need to work on your communication skills and this is the only way you'll be able to." Trish lifted up the file, waiting until Ren had met her gaze before throwing it at him. He picked it up, opening the cover and scanning what was written. It was a simple brief with a list of the skills he needed to put into use. It seemed easy enough. "You'll be without a team - there's no point using up everyone else's time. The only person you'll be supported by is Lane. Don't fuck it up. Or Pippa will never hear the end of it. Which means that I'll never hear the end of it." Trish shot him a look, until Ren nodded, and then pushed herself to her feet and made her way towards Samson's office. 

Warren stopped paying attention once she'd left the couch, eyes falling back into the file in front of him. The only downside to this practice was the fact that he'd have to work with Duncan. He sighed before also standing - he'd have to get used to it. This would be his life at Base 1. All missions would be supported by his tactical team. And the most important member of that team was the eagle eye - which just so happened to be Duncan Lane in this scenario. 

"It's worth it." He mumbled to himself as he made his way towards the communications room. He would show Duncan he was brilliant. He would.


	4. Hold You Up

Warren Okrasa, Duncan had found, was impossibly brilliant. Not that he would ever voice that opinion. Ever. In his entire life. However, he didn't mind admitting it to himself silently. Warren had come to Duncan with excitement in his tone about three months ago, running his mouth about how Trish had given them a practice task to relax him. They'd gotten stuck into it, Duncan just grateful for the homely feeling of anticipation and adrenaline that always seemed to flow through him during missions. Whether they were fake or not, he had to put himself in the mindset that they were the latter. 

The 'mission' had started slow, Warren and Duncan taking time to get used to each other. Warren had clearly worked with his last comms partner differently. He asked for simple one word instructions, rather than detailed and thorough explanations. Duncan slowly adapted to this. And Warren seemed to find it easy to follow the instructions given. It took a few runs but by the 3rd time, they were almost in sync. And Duncan realised that this was quite clearly where Warren felt most comfortable. He seemed to drop all of his annoying tendencies and become one with whatever objective they had at that point. He changed within seconds. 

If he wasn't so bewildered by it, he might have been concerned. 

Training helped. When Duncan finally said enough was enough, Ren didn't make it difficult. Instead the two of them went to supper together and ended up talking about the real missions they'd both been on. It was the first time since Dorian that Duncan had actually felt comfortable in a conversation about himself. 

"So - you're some computer genius who was literally _hand picked_ by the General?" He fought a smirk as he used the words Duncan had said to him on his first day at the base. He was pleased and relieved to see that they were accepted with a small smile. 

"More like I was handpicked by the General's boss, if you can believe." Duncan shrugged his shoulders as though it were nothing. He'd been destined to be some computer equivalent of Einstein. But instead, he'd accepted the request to join the Agency. He never wondered 'what if' so in his head, the decision was the best one. "You're physically talented, but you wouldn't be anything without me." He didn't say it with spite, his tone was still light. Warren nodded in agreement. He didn't mean that Warren would be anything without _him_. Just that Agents were brilliant, but without the tactical Eagle Eyes like Duncan and Pippa, they were blind to danger. 

"I guess it's kind of the case with everyone here, right? Base 6 had rumours about Agent Wilks excelling in every position here." He didn't know if they were just rumours - after meeting Samson, he definitely didn't think they were. He still felt like everyone at Base 1 could probably do their job with their hands tied behind their back and a blindfold over their eyes. He hoped he'd reach that level one day. 

"I guess." Duncan shrugged his shoulders. Rumours were something he didn't really care much about. "We're Base 1 for a reason. Not just because it was the first one built." He finished his water with one swig and pushed himself away from the table, standing. "I'm done for tonight. See you in the morning, Okrasa." Warren just nodded, eyes following Duncan as he left the room. He didn't stay at the table for much longer, mirroring Duncan's movements five minutes later. 

~~

"Visuals?"

"Yes. Five. In front." 

"Copy." 

Duncan was glancing between the 3 computer screens in front of him. One held a picture of the image Warren was currently seeing, another had an overhead view of the co-ordinates and the third had the overhead view but was set to detect heat and movement. He could see Warren's figure covered by the wall, and 5 unknown subjects a little ahead of him. 

"Three retreated. Advance with care." 

Warren did as he said almost instantly, stopping before he reached the edge of the wall. He turned his head to look at the team of 4 behind him. They all nodded as Warren signalled something Duncan couldn't see and probably didn't understand. He focused on the heat view instead, willing one of the remaining 2 to follow the other 3 so that at least Warren and the team would have a clear shot. He didn't. 

"Advancing, one word warnings please." 

After their months of training, Duncan understood this immediately. Warren had once made it clear that he worked on a Green, Amber, Red system. If the threat was high, Duncan simply said Red and they'd retreat. If it looked like it was going to get messy, an Amber warning was given. But for anything without issue, Green was the suitable option. At first, he'd found it stupid. But considering Warren had never come back with anything more than a graze from a gunshot, he'd stuck to it. 

"Green." 

The team moved forward, and Duncan's eyes flickered between the screens in front of him. Although he could see Warren's figure on the heat cam, neither of the subjects moved. "Green, undetected." He could feel his heart in his throat, knowing that one word could easily lead 5 of his colleagues to their deaths. But he believed in himself more than that. 

"Advancing." 

Duncan watched the screen as he saw more of Warren's team come into view and within seconds, they'd taken out the 2 subjects and were moving deeper into the marked out building. 

"Green, you're free for about ten paces. Two on the left, one on the right. Objective through the doors by the left." A simple 'Copy' from Warren told Duncan that he understood. His eyes were trained on the heat cam, until something caught his eye on Warren's body camera. 

Although Duncan swore he only looked away for a brief second, he knew he should have still seen the other subject now making his way towards the building entrance. The entrance where Warren and his team were parked because of his 'order'. 

"Amber." Duncan kept his eyes on the new figure, who stopped before he reached the entrance. And Duncan was about to make them aware when he heard a gunshot and the rest of the figures moved towards Warren's team. 

He stood up, barking the word 'Red' and 'Retreat' to Warren. He didn't know if it was heard over the gunshots.


	5. Flaws

Warren hadn't slept for two weeks. Okay, he wasn't constantly awake but he refused to class an hour a night as _sleep_. It wasn't enough for him to function properly, so it didn't count. And despite his enthusiasm, Samson had refused to allow him to lead any missions until he managed to overcome this bought of insomnia. There'd been plenty of arguments over it - about how Warren didn't like feeling so worthless. All of the arguments resulted in Warren being lectured about how he was anything _but_ worthless, and Warren pouting about it for the rest of the evening. 

The thing that was keeping him awake was the nightmares. He'd failed missions before, he'd been shot on the field and he'd lost men on the field. He'd been caught in traps much like the one two weeks ago. He'd been trained to deal with mistakes made by himself and by his team. But this was the first time that it had affected him in this way. Warren put it down to the pressure of being in Base 1. Failure shouldn't be an option when you were picked out by the General. He'd also been concerned that the relationship and trust he'd built up with Duncan would be shot to pieces because of this. 

It hadn't, of course. Ren just hadn't paid enough attention to realise it. 

"Here." 

The aforementioned male's voice dragged Ren back to reality. He blinked away his daze and looked up at his partner, who was holding out a mug of tea. Warren gratefully took it, bringing the mug to his lips and sipping the bitter liquid. Duncan had forgotten sweeteners, but it was a welcome taste. "Thanks." Warren mumbled, gaze following Duncan as he dropped onto the sofa. Warren placed his mug on the coffee table in front of them, shifting his body so that he could pull his knees closer to his chest, head resting on them. 

"You look like shit, by the way." There was nothing but concern in Duncan's voice - okay, it was laced with amusement, but mostly concern. Warren knew this, of course. He'd done his best to avoid looking in any of the mirrors around Base. He was aware of the black rings under his eyes and how disheveled his hair probably looked. He hadn't smiled for days, either. 

"I need you rested, Okrasa. Khule is amazing when it comes to guns but his leadership skills are shoddy. He also never talks to me." Duncan's nose wrinkled, and it Warren managed a small smile. He wished he could rest. He wished he could get back out on the field, taking direction from Duncan. He didn't want to be cooped up inside the Base, watching from the sidelines as his team's lives were on the line. "Although your lack of conversation is off putting, also." Warren met his gaze, and relieved to see that Duncan's expression was still soft. Warm, almost. 

"Sorry. I'm trying." Warren released his legs, allowing them to fall flatly onto the sofa cushion, feet hitting the floor. "Sleep is not my friend right now." All he could do was shrug. Because there was no other way to explain it. He reached for his tea, taking another sip before setting it back down.

"If you're worried that it'll happen again, that's okay. You know that, right?" 

Warren wasn't Duncan's biggest fan, and he was certain that the feeling was reciprocated. But he still managed to hit the nail on the head when he guessed these things. Although Warren was certain it was written all over his face anyway. It was worrying. Anyone who said they didn't feel like history would repeat itself was lying. Because it did, it had, no matter how brilliant you were. One thing he'd been told in training was that he had to focus on himself. 'You can't control anyone else, so learn to control yourself'. But it was hard to keep that idea in his head when he was so terrified. He nodded, realising he hadn't answered Duncan. 

"Good."

Another smile. Despite all of Duncan's bad traits, his good ones definitely shone when they needed to. 

~~ 

Duncan wouldn't ever grill someone for failing from things out of their control. And in his eyes, Warren _hadn't_ failed. Circumstances just hadn't allowed him to succeed. Hadn't allowed any of them to succeed. He'd been there - he'd beaten himself up for giving the wrong direction, for not noticing something he should have. It didn't help anyone, especially not himself. So he'd stopped doing it. He'd taught himself to just accept it any move on. In this industry, that was all you could do. And if he had to drill that into the head of everyone he ever worked with, then he would. 

And Warren was no exception. 

~~

They both sat in silence, Duncan focusing on the television that was playing some rubbish soap. He was trying to figure out what had happened - it seemed that there was one lady who had just found out her husband was cheating on her with her sister, and then her son had known about it but had been blackmailed not to say anything. So now they were fighting in a pub garden and everyone was watching. It was amusing, and Duncan found himself getting into it a little too much.

Until he felt pressure on his shoulder. 

He glanced down, only to be met with a sleeping Warren Okrasa on his shoulder. Duncan's brown furrowed, and he was about to shrug the other male off him when he realised that it would only cause issued.

Warren hadn't slept for two weeks.

He was sleeping now. 

Duncan frowned deeply, suddenly hyper-aware of every movement he made. Whether it was through breathing or shifting the leg from under him that had gone numb. But Warren didn't budge. Neither did Duncan's gaze. 

And it was at that point that Duncan realised that, not only was Warren Okrasa impossibly brilliant, he was actually kind of cute.


	6. Only Fools Rush In.

It had happened again. And it was at this point that Duncan came to a realisation:

Warren Okrasa was the heaviest sleeper he'd ever met. 

For the past couple of weeks, Warren had ended his busy days by falling asleep on Duncan, who was minding his own business on the sofa, checking codes on his laptop. The first time that it had happened, it had taken Duncan by surprise. But Warren had been exhausted from the failed mission, he'd been shaken from his sleep as soon as he'd managed to get a lick of rest. So Duncan had left him. And Ren hadn't stirred. Not 2 hours later, at 9pm. Not at 12am. Not at 2am. And not at 8am when Duncan did, feeling a little grumpy that he'd spent the night on the sofa, rather than in his bed. 

The second time had been a surprise, too. Duncan had been on his laptop, minding his own business, when Ren had joined him. They'd talked for a few minutes before there had been a weight on Duncan's shoulder. He'd reluctantly allowed Ren to resume his sleep, but was grateful that the other male woke up four hours later and dragged himself to bed. 

The third and fourth times, Duncan had sort of been expecting it. Warren had joined him after being treated by the Base medic for a gunshot wound he'd acquired only a week before (both times). Duncan had instantly turned his laptop off and they'd talked, before Warren shifted his body and settled closer to Duncan. He found he didn't mind, much. The body heat was welcome and the smell of soap and lavender from Ren was pleasant. Both times, Warren had fallen asleep, head draped back against the sofa before falling onto Duncan's shoulder. He'd only waited an hour or so before picking Ren up and placing him in his actual bed. 

Tonight had been different. 

They'd both had a busy day. The mission training had been taxing. Aggressive and exhausting. Duncan's arms hurt from the typing, his head was sore from codes and memorising thermal images. Warren had put in 110%, and Duncan was sure he'd be ridiculously tired also. However, the other male had still joined him on the sofa, had still asked how he was and idly chatted as his face became far too relaxed for him to be alert and awake. His head was on Duncan's shoulder fairly quickly, and Duncan was grateful. 

If this was what it took to get Warren to sleep, to get him to be mentally rested enough to train, then so be it. 

This time, due to his own sleepiness, Duncan had only waited half an hour before carefully removing himself from Warren's head and taking him into his arms. Warren was surprisingly light. Duncan had come up with stories about why. It was clearly because there was very little fat on Warren, at all. His weight was made up of mostly muscle. But he wasn't heavy. 

He made his way to Warren's room, pushing the door open with his foot before placing Ren down on the bed gently, careful to not wake him up. Duncan pulled his body away when Ren's seemed to relax, and he offered a smile at the sleeping male. "I can't carry you all the time, so buck your ideas up." There as no malice in his tone, no annoyance. It was purely fondness, and faux threats. Duncan allowed himself to admire how peaceful Ren looked before turning to leave the agent's bedroom. 

He'd only reached the door when he heard a hushed voice call him back. He turned his body around to face Ren, who was now propped up by one of his elbows, his other arm lifted so he could rub at his eyes. "Can you stay?" Ren's voice was masked with sleep, the tone still not reaching a level beyond whispering. Duncan hesitated for a moment, frowning at Ren's request. But the other male didn't falter, he didn't look worried. 

Duncan thought about it. What could possibly be wrong with it? Everything, obviously. But this was innocent, this was Warren asking him to stay. It was no different from falling asleep on the sofa together, right? He pursed his lips, taking in just how vulnerable Ren was at this moment in time. Because he was. He had no fight in him, he could barely hold off sleep as he waited for Duncan's answer. How easy would it be to just climb into bed, pull him close and fall asleep with a smile on his face? 

"I'd rather not, Okrasa." Duncan responded finally, not waiting to see Ren's reaction as he exited the bedroom. It would be easy to stay. But it went against everything in his rule book if he stayed.


	7. Stand By You

Warren hadn't brought up the sleepy request since Duncan had declined it. He'd also avoided joining the other male on the sofa since it had happened. Or hadn't happened, however you wanted to look at it. It wasn't that Warren was upset that it had been declined, it was more that he'd actually asked in the first place. He didn't look at Duncan as anything other than a colleague, his communications partner. So he didn't know why he'd asked in the first place. He put that down to sleep.

That and he couldn't remember feeling so _safe_. But he tried to blame that on the nature of their relationship anyway. That's what communications partners were for, after all, keeping agents safe.

Thankfully, Duncan had also chosen to disregard that it had happened. He didn't bring it up, he didn't tease Warren about it. Nobody else seemed to, either, so that meant Duncan had kept it to himself. Warren was grateful for that, at least. 

"Earth to Warren." 

Warren was pulled from his daze, blinking at the computer screen in front of him. He'd completely forgotten that he was on a Skype call. He'd been listening to his best friend, Shane, talk about how things were back at home. "Sorry, sorry. You were talking about Ricky?" He smiled as brightly as he could at his friend, who shot him a glare. 

"Yes." Shane's previous irritation seemed to disappear, a smile forming on his face. "Remember the girl that he was with when you left a few months ago?" Warren nodded - before coming to Base 1, he'd been allowed leave. He'd spent a week at home, catching up with his friends and spending some time as a normal 28 year old. It had been nice, but it had hit him hard. He hadn't realised how much he missed everyone. "Well Ricky's thinking about popping the question." 

Warren was glad he wasn't drinking anything - because it would have been all over the screen if he had. Ricky, their womanising friend, was going to _propose_ to someone he'd only known for a few months. That was big. Warren almost didn't believe it. 

"He was talking about how brilliant she makes him feel, and how he gets gross little butterflies in his stomach when he'd with her. So Ollie sarcastically was like 'well why don't you marry her then?' and Ricky was all like 'that's the best idea you've had, yes, thanks'." 

Warren couldn't fight the smile on his face. Watching as Shane told the story, giving both Oliver and Ricky their own voices. 

"So he showed up here this morning with a ring he'd bought - and like he'd been and bought it. He showed me the receipt - he paid like a thousand dollars for it. Ren, this is serious." 

It was. So serious. But Warren couldn't help but laugh at the idea of Ricky becoming a husband. Being a faithful guy who only had eyes for one woman. It was unheard of, really. 

"It is serious. But if he's happy, then that's the main thing, right? He might come to his senses before he pops the question, anyway. It is Ricky, after all." This was met with a knowing nod from Shane. They both knew Ricky like the backs of their hands, a lot could change between now and meeting the girl again. It had happened before. Not to the extent of a proposal, but it had still happened. 

"You always were the wise friend, Renderson. Look, mate, I gotta go. But we should definitely catch up again soon, yeah? Stay safe, please. We're all thinking of you back home."

"Cheers, buddy. I'll try to make the stag party in one piece." 

"I'm sure Rick would appreciate that! Love ya, pal." 

"Kisses." 

The call had ended and Warren suddenly wished that he could call one of their other friends. It was nice, despite how much it made him miss home. He let out a sigh as he closed his laptop, jumping when Duncan came into view.

"Idiot, you scared me. How long have you been lurking there?" He frowned at the other male, putting his laptop onto the sofa beside him and fidgeting slightly on his seat. Duncan shrugged his shoulders, a smile playing on his lips. 

"Renderson." 

Warren shot him a glare, arms folding across his chest. "Don't you have anything better to do?" 

He was met with another shrug, which only served to make Warren huff grumpily. He pushed himself to his feet, idly grabbing his laptop and heading towards the door. 

"You." 

Warren stopped before he could leave, turning his head to look at Duncan. The other male had his body turned to face him, a smile on his face. A smile that pushed Ren's heart to his throat for some peculiar reason. He swallowed thickly to try and push it down. 

"Should meet me in the communications room later. We've got another mission to go through." There was the smirk. The smirk that sent shivers down Ren's spine and made him want to throw a punch. He left the room quickly instead. 

Duncan could swear blind he saw Warren blush. 

He quite enjoyed it.


	8. Sympathy

Duncan knew exactly what he'd done. He was proud of it. Heck, he still wore the smug smirk on his face even though the conversation had been at least 2 hours ago. He'd been given briefing for a mission they'd be starting in two days. But Duncan didn't particularly want to talk about that anymore. He was more interested in the blush that had most definitely appeared on the back of Warren's neck as he left the lounge. He wanted to know more about why he'd appeared to look so wide eyed at the idea of Duncan _doing_ him. He was only kidding, of course. 

He was fairly pleased with the outcome anyway. 

Duncan had settled at his computer shortly after leaving the lounge, eyeing the blue prints for the buildings of the next mission, working out the strong points and exit routes. On the day, it would be different. He couldn't predict the movements of those who weren't his team. But he could certainly prepare for any sort of mishap. He was midway through marking off the third exit route when he heard the door open. Duncan turned in his chair to see who had entered, his smirk falling into a small smile when he was met with Warren. 

The other male wore a frown, and Duncan wanted to tell him he'd get wrinkles if he carried on. He didn't think it would be met with approval. Instead he turned back to his screen, saving the document to the relevant programme and then exiting it. 

"So this mission, then?" 

Warren had settled by Duncan's desk, but there was still some distance between them. Duncan turned his gaze to the other male, subtly allowing his eyes to briefly check Warren out as he did. There were definitely worse people to look at. Warren was very well built, and it showed that he spent a lot of his free time training in the Base's gum. And then there was his jaw, that Duncan wasn't afraid to admit, looked like it had been perfectly sculpted from stone. His smile widened as he saw the aforementioned jaw tense, and his gaze flickered to Warren's eyes. "Which one?" Duncan rose to his feet, pushing his chair away with the back of his knees. Warren's frown deepened and he let out an exasperated sigh.

"Why are you intent on pissing me about, Duncan? Like, what did I ever do to you?" It was an overreaction, in Duncan's eyes. He'd asked a fairly appropriate question. Even if Warren wasn't aware of the secret mission that he'd set himself. 

What did it take to make Warren Okrasa blush? 

"Nothing." Duncan smiled, mirroring Warren's movements and folding his arms across his chest. "I'm not intent on pissing you about, it's not my fault if it's so easy to do." He shifted on the spot, hesitating before moving to close the gap slightly between himself and Warren. The other male didn't move, which spurred him on to take another step closer. Warren still hadn't responded to Duncan's (albeit rhetorical) question yet. "Silence is the best answer you can give, Okrasa." Duncan pointed out. 

This sentence did two things.

One: it brought an anticipated blush to Warren's cheeks and neck. 

Two: it also brought a bright smile (which he managed to dim quickly) to Duncan's lips. 

"I don't - Well I mean, I'm not that easy to piss - it's not that easy to piss me about, you're just-"

"Just what?" Duncan had very nearly closed the gap between them, Warren now backing against the wall which had pinned maps and photographs on it. 

"I don't know - you're - y'know." The blush seemed to be contagious, and Duncan swore he could see it reach Warren's scalp. 

"What?" Duncan's smile met his eyes now, intensely satisfied with how flustered Warren was right now.

Warren didn't answer, but Duncan saw his eyes flash to his lips, before Warren licked his own. Duncan closed the gap completely between them, leaning down so that his face was inches away from Warren's. 

"What?" 

That was enough. Duncan closed the space between them, lips pressing roughly against Warren's. Warren hesitated, at first, before he returned the kiss. Duncan's hands instinctively moved to Warren's cheeks, deepening the kiss slightly. 

And then he pulled away, leaving Warren open mouthed, his cheeks more flushed than Duncan ever imagined they could be. He allowed his smirk to return to his features. 

Now the look on Warren's face - it brought more satisfaction to Duncan than any singular blush could. 

No, not satisfaction. Actual _happiness_.

But then, Sara has told him many times that he was sadistic. Maybe she was right.


End file.
